Survival of the Fittest
by Dylawa
Summary: The outbreak of the Undead has left the world reeling, especially those who have suffered loss. Trevor Phillips and his daughter, Waverly, don't understand their allies's pain. But when they are separated from each other in this unconnected world, they'll understand VERY well what the zombie apocalypse means for them. Spin off to Waltz of the Outcast. Major character death warning.
1. Chapter 1

**ATTENTION: THIS IS A SPIN OFF TO ANOTHER STORY OF MINE. READ WALTZ OF THE OUTCAST BEFORE THIS, AND THE WHOLE "WAVERLY" THING WILL MAKE SENSE.**

* * *

_Ask me a question. Anything. Then read this. Take a guess as to how I would answer, because I'm obviously not here to answer it now. Where am I? Well, if I get the chance to fill in this blank, then I'm ... ... ... ..._

_Is the space blank? Then pay attention to this next part._

_If you're reading this, assume the worst and get your gun ready. I have this journal on me at all times, so, considering you have it now, that means I'm dead. Or worse: a Walker._

_But it's not me you should be afraid of. It's my dad. He's a psychopath, and I love him. And he probably not dead, and wouldn't appreciate you messing with his daughter's stuff. And if he's a Walker, then god damn, they've already won. Trevor Phillips as a zombie... he's be fucking unstoppable._

_As if he wasn't already a force to be reckoned with. In life, he's a monster. Everyone's afraid of him. Even his own friends. Even I'm afraid of him sometimes, and I'm supposed to love him unconditionally, because I'm his daughter, right?_

_Well, not all of us are normal. Especially everyone that I've met and recorded in this journal._

_My name is _Waverly Doe Phillips._ And as I write this, Walkers are pounding away outside, hunting for their next meal._

_What are Walkers? Walkers are the dead come back for a final snack. Walkers are Hell's mindless minions, seeking to drag any remaining souls back down with them, because Lucifer isn't satisfied with the few trillion he already has. Walkers may be God's angels. Probably not. And you would think that we'd be able to get rid of them, because our world is so advanced in the ways of technology and medicine._

_But they're all dead._

_The Military is dead. The scientists are dead. The governments are dead. The doctors are dead._

_The world is dead._

* * *

Wave woke with a start. Something was moaning. It didn't sound like Trevor.

Out of habit, the seventeen year old pulled her pistol from under her mattress, and snatched up a flashlight. Her Great Dane, Santa, gazed up at her curiously. Okay, so Santa was completely relaxed. That was a good sign. Whatever was in the house obviously wasn't a lethal threat.

Inching her door open quietly, Wave peered down the hallway with glistening sapphire eyes. There it was again! The moaning...

She held her pistol close to her chest as she made her way down the hall to her father's room. Most nights, they slept together, but Wave had wanted the night alone for once. For, uh, personal reasons. She sniffed the air. She knew the scent of her father, she knew the scent of her dog. Someone else was definitely there.

The floor, somewhere, creaked. Wave whipped her head in the direction of the sound, and raised her gun.

_Someone was definitely there._

But she wouldn't make a sound. That'd be stupid, they'd know she's there, and then they'd shoot back. Wave didn't want bullet holes in her walls.

When she saw the silhouette, she switched on the flashlight, and beamed it in their face.

"Ah, Wave! Jesus, that's bright!"

She lowered the light.

"Jimmy?"

The ginger haired son of Michael de Santa grinned sheepishly at Wave, but his voice trembled. "Hi, Wave, uh, sorry, I knocked, but no one answered."

"The fuck are you doing in here!? You-we- argh, get in the bathroom you fucktard."

She shoved him into the adjoining room and rubbed the bridge of her nose. He tried to inch closer to her, but she shoved him away. By now she knew that Jimmy had a crush on her, and she did not want him close at all.

"Alright, Jimmy. It's two in the morning, Trevor's home, and you smell like weed. You better have a good explanation for being here."

The boy wrung his hands nervously, eyes darting about. "Well, yeah, uh, so I had my licence taken, ya know? 'Cuz I got caught with the _drug _too many times, and, uh, Dad wouldn't pick me up from this party at Franklin's, and I had to get home _somehow_,-"

"You expect me to drive you?"

"N-no, no, well, would you?"

"Fuck no, get out of my goddamn house!"

Wave moved to open the door, but Jimmy stuttered, "No, no, no, wait, that's not all! Uh, well, I was walking down the road, and I had already passed by your house, but there was this _weird dude _in the road, and, like, he was all groaning and shit. So I went to walk around him, 'cuz 'I'm not gonna talk to some weird druggie in the middle of the night, and-"

"Get to the point, Shit Taco."

"He tried to _bite me_."

Wave raised an eyebrow at Jimmy's panicked face. "That all? Dude, you live in Los Santos. That shit's more real than I'd like to admit."

"N-no, that's not all. He chased me, and he was actually pretty fast for limping so bad, and the weed was getting to me, so I came to your house and knocked, but then I saw a window was open, so I just hopped in and- oh shit!"

Wave grabbed her gun.

"You left the window open, didn't you, dipshit?"

Jimmy whimpered.

* * *

The moaning was there again, but now she knew what it was at least. She didn't really want to get blood on the carpet, but Trevor had some connections. He could get it cleaned.

Santa _was growling _now, but it was low, and plus, he was still in her room. This was something she didn't want to get him involved in just yet.

Another moan. It came from in front of Trevor's door. He slept like a freight train when he wanted to, so no wonder he hadn't come barging and screaming out of his room yet wondering what was going on.

Well, he would be soon. Besides, the sign out front of the house specifically said _No Soliciting. Beware of dog_.

Whatever this guy was selling, they weren't buying.

When she saw him, she nearly gagged at the smell. This guy obviously hadn't taken a bath in a while.

"You have _so _got to die," she murmured. The man turned around.

_Only it wasn't a man. It was a monster._

Wave screamed, and shot it in the chest. All that happened was a stumbled backwards, and it kept coming, blood gushing from the wound. She gasped, then tried again. No results. Again, same story. She went to shoot a fourth time, but her gun was out of bullets. She cursed under her breath and threw it at the monster.

She was cornered now. No where to go, and she did _not _want to touch it.

Suddenly, the monster's head burst with the power of what could only be caused by a very special someone's shotgun. That did the trick, and it fell. Speckles of its guts splattered them both, but it wasn't bad for what it should have been. It was almost like the thing's blood dried up.

Trevor Phillips slung his shotgun over his shoulder and bore into Wave with dark brown eyes. "You alright, Wavey Baby?"

She nodded, then there was a pause. "That thing reeks."

Trevor grunted, and nudged it with his foot. "How'd he get in?"

"Jimmy."

He glanced up. "Huh? Jimmy?"

The boy heard he was being talked about, and emerged from a corner of the house.

"He was chasing me, and there was an open window, and- and, I'm sorry, Trevor, I so-"

Trevor cut him off. "Don't care. Now get out."

He went to open the front door, but Santa was there, barking madly. Trevor loaded his shotgun again.

"Who in their right goddamn mind..?"

The door banged. Trevor aimed where someone's head would be, and yelled, "State your fucking business!"

Something... _growled_. Trevor wasted no time firing. When he opened the door to see the corpse, the victim was frighteningly similar to the one before.

Outside, people were running. Screaming. There were more gunshots.

"Dad..." Wave warned.

The man slammed the door and marched to his room. Behind him, he called, "Wave, pack some stuff into the truck. Something is happening."

Jimmy pushed past Wave into Trevor's room. "W-wait, what's going on?"

* * *

Trevor hauled the last of the things Wave decided to take into the back of the truck and lifted Santa into the truck bed. Jimmy sat in the front seat with Trevor, Wave curled into the little space left in the back.

"We'll take you back to your dad," he said to Jimmy. "Settle back in with your folks until they decide what to do. I can't make Mikey do anything, but if I think your lives really are threatened, I'll come and get you. Clear?"

Jimmy nodded.

Most people were running for the mountains, but even then, there weren't that many. And those who were walking... well, they were assumed to be one of those _things _and were shot on sight.

And there was lots of traffic, but Trevor didn't care. He plowed by like they were sleeping cats.

Santa barked. No one else made a sound.

Something off was in the air.

* * *

Michael de Santa was piling his family into cars when they got to his home as well. When Amanda de Santa saw Jimmy, she cried out and ran to the truck.

"Oh, my little boy!" She pulled him into her arms and directed him to the house. "Pack your bags, honey, we're going on a little trip."

Trevor and Wave hopped out of the car and walked to where Michael was, behind one of the cars trying to close the full trunk.

"Mikey? You too?" Trevor asked. "Sheesh, it must really be something if you're getting off of your ass and booking it out of Los Santos."

Michael looked at Trevor with a bewildered look. "You don't know what's going on, do you?"

Wave shook her head. "First thing I know is that your son comes barging into our house at about two and babbling about people going crazy."

"It's more than that," a shaky voice said from the door of the house. Trevor and Wave both turned to see Lester Crest, a close associate of Michael, Trevor and Franklin Clinton. Both Wave and T's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That man hardly ever left his house. He limped down the steps and hurried toward the duo.

"Guys, this is a full epidemic! There's cases in Japan, Russia, Britain, even Madagascar! No one knows what's going on, no one knows how or why it's spreading so quickly, but whatever it is, it's something akin to Rabies or Mad Cow disease! People are eating people _raw_! Whatever this thing is, I want far away from it."

Michael finally succeeded into closing the trunk of the car, and Lester hopped into the front seat. Wave and Trevor looked at each other, then walked into Michael's house to see the TV for a moment.

_"... but as no one has any idea how treatable this disease is, most families and people are strongly encouraged to stay in their homes until the Military arrives and can give full aid to both the infected and non-infected. Remember the most common steps to keeping yourself disease free, and you should be fine. We've just got someone in a chopper on the scene taking a closer look at- hold on a minu- Larry, are you- whoa, whoa- No, NO-"_

The broadcast switched off, and the Emergency Broadcast system took its place.

_*BEEP*. *BEEP*. _

_This is the Emergency Broadcast system. This is NOT a drill, repeat. THIS IS NOT A DRILL._

_*BEEP*. *BEEP*._

* * *

"Alright kids, get in the car," Amanda chirped, "chop chop!"

Tracey and Jimmy did as they were bid, and Amanda hopped in the driver's seat. Michael hopped in the car Lester was sitting in, and they pulled out of the driveway.

"We'll go and see what Franklin's up to," Michael had said, "And then we'll all meet up outside of town."

Trevor nodded, and hoisted Wave into the truck like she weighed nothing.

"What do you think it is?" She asked Trevor.

"Ever heard of the Placebo effect?"

Wave shook her head. For being a criminal, Trevor could hold some very intelligent conversations sometimes.

"If you're told that something will do something to you, you'll believe it if you've never encountered it before. You're body and mind will react in the way that you were told you should, even if it should have a different effect. It's a test done with people, and sometimes the results are unintentionally devastating. What I'm trying to say is some _idiot_ overreacted to a bite or disease, and people are thinking it's contagious, and tricking themselves into thinking they're infected. You get what I'm saying?"

Wave nodded. "But they _smelled _sick, and I don't think a placebo would do that."

Trevor shrugged. "It's just a theory, but I'm no rocket scientist."

* * *

Franklin joined the caravan of refugees shortly after hearing what was going on and fell in line behind Amanda, Trevor behind him and Michael and Lester behind Trevor.

Wave clutched her father's Impotent Rage statue tightly, afraid that she'd lose it if it was anywhere else. Trevor couldn't help but smirk at that. It was like a safety blanket to them both. Suddenly, a loud boom caught their attention, and they looked back to Los Santos.

"Holy fuck..." Michael muttered.

Planes were dropping bombs on the large city, and screams of terror and agony could be hear all the way from where they were.

"Just... just ignore it," Trevor stuttered. "Just look forward and keep driving. Amanda?"

"Up ahead looks clear," she stated. "Are you sure you want Ron and Wade to tag along? I mean, Ron's fine, I've heard, but-"

"We're taking them both," Trevor growled. "The more of us, the better. And they were there for me when I _needed _them. I owe them."

The progression was silent.

* * *

"Ron!" Trevor yelled when he entered the man's house. "RON!"

But it wasn't Ron who poked his face out from under the couch. It was Wade. His face was streaked with tears and he was trembling violently.

"T-t-trev-vor..!"

"Wade!" Trevor pulled the boy out quickly and sat him on the couch. "Wade, where's Ron?"

He couldn't even speak. He just pointed to the man's room.

Trevor trembled now too. "Wade, why is Ron in his room?"

Wade just shook and sobbed.

"We know what this means," Michael said from the door to the trailer. "We need to go."

Trevor stood and stomped to Ron's room. "I need to make sure. I'm not leaving if it isn't true."

He put his ear to the door, and listened intently. Breathing sounded normal. No pained noises. No horrid smells. Trevor opened the door.

The window was open, the bed was made, but no Ron.

"Where'd he go!?" Wade screamed. "He's gone crazy, Trevor! He's gonna hurt somebody!"

At the same time, Amanda screamed, and Wave shouted, "Fuck, FUCK!"

"AMANDA!?" Michael shouted and ran from his house to see Ron biting his wife's arm. Wave shot him in the head, but the damage had already been done.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Michael ran out and took her in his arms. "Amanda, are you alright!?"

She started shaking and moaning, and her grip on him tightened.

"Mikey!" Franklin shouted, "get away from her!"

"AMANDA!?"

Jimmy ran up and tried to pull his dad away, but Amanda bit him instead. Jimmy screamed, only for a moment, then began foaming at the mouth. Tracey screamed.

Michael screamed for his son. Lester screamed for his life, and Wave screamed for more ammo.

All Trevor could do was watch as his best friend's life was pulled away from him by what could only be revenge from God as Tracey was bit, and all three de Santas were shot.

There was a definite silence after that. Not even the chirping of birds and the sound of bombs could be heard over the deaf shock that enveloped them all.

Franklin's gun clattered to the ground. Wave covered her mouth as she stared at the bodies that had been living- that she _knew- _that she had _loved _and _cared _for- only minutes ago.

Santa whimpered. Trevor let out a gasp he'd been holding in.

And Michael only stared at the pooling blood that belonged to his mate and kin, before he sobbed and collapsed.

* * *

_Author's note:_

_Mix of Walking Dead, mix of World War Z, mix of Waltz of the Outcast._

_Welcome to Survival of the Fittest._

_On a brighter note, there is now a link in my portfolio description to a Pokemon fanfiction that _**can **_be read here, but you can get early access to future updates by following the link. Plus, points of view will be more clear on Google docs, where it is originally from. I take the persona of Carmen Imbrium, and two of my other friends play as Yasu Star and James Alex Cooper._

_I guarantee it will be like nothing you've ever read before, so please go check it out._

_-Dylawa_


	2. Chapter 2

One year. That's how long it had been since this all started.

At least, that's how long they thought it'd been. None of them knew anymore. All the clocks were broken, or off track. Calendars were no use. All they needed was the seasons to know what to do, where to go, how to get there. How to survive. Yes. Surviving was the crucial thing. They needed to survive. Together.

These were the things that ran rampant through Franklin's head as he ran back with the little meat he could get, and steered clear of as many Walkers as he could. It was easy to shove away any in his way. Their reaction time wasn't the best.

Chop had learned to stay close to him. Never ran ahead. Never ran behind. He was safest right next to Master. Never attacked unless bid to do so. Never barked unless the others were unaware. Chop had learned well.

"C'mon, Chop, we're almost home," Franklin panted.

Home. Is that what it was now. No. It was a motel they'd made _into _a home.

There was no such thing as a home anymore.

* * *

Trevor stared at Michael across the table. Mikey had more scars than he did a month ago. His cheeks had hollowed. He was thin. He was balding. His eyes were sunken and weary. And all he ever tried to do anymore was spin that damn top. Wouldn't hunt. Wouldn't fortify. Wouldn't even clean.

Trevor wouldn't leave him. Neither would anyone else. Funny, how the end of the world had turned such hardened criminals into such a tight family.

In a corner, one of the new tag-alongs was sharpening his knife. Carefully. Slowly. He didn't talk much, and they were just fine with that. He said to call him Mike. He wouldn't give a last name, but he didn't need it. His square, yet aged face and tough exterior did the job he wanted of keeping people away from him. He sometimes babbled to himself about someone named Vinnie, a someone known as 8-Ball, and a few things about a "Cisco".

No one paid any mind.

Claude was a little more sociable. He talked about his time with 8-ball, which took place after Mike had left the area. He talked about the people who betrayed him and the ones who took him in. He talked about the thing's he'd done, the people he'd killed, the money he'd made. Trevor listened wholeheartedly. So did Wave.

The last man who had joined them was a Niko Bellic. Lester was the one who had convinced his group not to shoot him. He spent time mostly to himself, but took a shine to Wave. He always told her stories of the war he had fought back in Siberia. They swapped stories about their time in America (though Wave had been there her whole life) and the things they had done to get to the top.

Trevor tried to keep her away from him.

Other than that, nothing had changed. Wade was Wade, Trevor was Trevor, Lester was Lester and Wave was Wave and Franklin was Franklin.

It was everyone else who had changed.

* * *

Dinner was silent that night. No one knew why. Perhaps it was that they had ran out of things to talk about. But they always ate together to make sure everyone got the right portions.

Niko sat across from Wave. Trevor sat next to her, and on her other side was Wade. She helped Wade with his dinner, because Trevor was the only other one that would.

Michael didn't care who he sat by. He just wanted an end seat so he could eat and go. His spinning top had been banned from the table after it spun into Mike's drink and spilled it into his food. That was a hard fight to avoid.

Lester sat next to Niko. Something about the Slavic man intrigued him. Mike was on that side of the table too. Claude was on Wave's side, next to Trevor. Franklin just sat wherever he could.

They always ate like this. Just something that was normal. Something that was stable. It was habit, but it meant so much.

But tonight was different. Michael went outside, but only Trevor noticed. He followed him.

Michael may not have even known he was being followed, but Trevor wasn't really one for subtlety. It was more likely that Michael chose to ignore his old friend. A year ago, Trevor would have punched him for that. But now, tensions can't be afforded. Trevor's just his ghost now, his conscience. Guiding him when he's lost or refuses to move. Pushes the gun into his hand when there are too many of them. Even turns off the light in his room after he's cried himself to sleep.

Trevor doesn't fully understand, but he tries to. He always does.

Michael stopped when he came to a river, and sat at the bank. He took a stick and wrote his wife's name, over and over, until the ripples in the water concealed it. Then he moved to his right, and wrote his daughter's name, over and over, until the same thing happened. He did the same for his son on the left. Trevor made sure not to disturb the writing, and sat down next to him.

"It's the only way I can remember anymore," Michael hoarsely whispered. "Every day, I write their names. Then I close my eyes and try to remember... remember what they looked like. My wife... Amanda... She was brunette, right?"

Trevor didn't have the courage to tell him her hair was black. "Yes. Brown hair."

"And Tracey had... green eyes."

Trevor honestly didn't know that one. And he was ashamed for it. He should know his "niece's" eye color.

But there were no more pictures. No more phones to look at them, no more Life Invader.

"Green," Trevor agreed.

"Jimmy had a dimple... right?"

No response. Michael shuddered, and his gaze went cloudy.

"No. Of course not. I knew that. He's my son, for fuck's sake."

Michael tossed a stick into the river. He cursed again. He pulled his spinning top from his shirt pocket and rotated it mindlessly in his fingers.

"No dimples."

The sun was setting, and made the trees on the other side of the river look life they were lit up for Christmas.

"Mikey," Trevor began.

"What?" Michael asked.

"I miss them too."

A beat.

"But I mostly miss _you_."

Michael didn't even glance at him. "Then go back to 2013. You'll find me there for sure."

Trevor shook his head. "He's not there. I already looked. I miss _you _Mikey. Not Michael de Santa. Michael _Townley_."

That got his attention. That meant a quick quirk of the eyebrows. Then nothing. Trevor sighed.

"I would have given up my life for you. I still would, though it's not worth the dirt under my finger nails. You're not worth _anything_. But neither am I. And I _want _you- **_need_ **you around. You're one of the only things that keeps me stable."

Michael pounded his fists into the soft dirt beneath him and screamed.

"You don't need me! Ever since this whole thing happened, _you've _mellowed out! You're calm! You're collected! YOU lead us! Not me! **YOU! **And you expect me to believe you _need _me to keep me calm! Fuck you! Fuck no! It's a Goddamn lie is what it is! You don't need me!"

He stood up and paced circles around Trevor.

"You know what else?! You don't need me! You know why?! You got your **mother FUCKING **daughter to boost your pretty little spirits all the way up to FUCKING Cloud Nine! What do I have!? Huh!? HUH?! What does that leave ME with!?"**  
**

Trevor took a deep breath before Michael smacked him across the head. This had happened before.

"WHAT DO I HAVE WORTH LIVING FOR, TREVOR FUCKING PHILLIPS!?"

He kicked Trevor in the ribs, and the man fell back, wheezing and groaning. This had happened before.

"I want my wife!" he sobbed. "I want my son, I want MY 'baby girl'!"

He stepped repeatedly on Trevor's gut. Trevor didn't fight him, or cry. That just got a worse reaction out of him.

He didn't want to hurt him anyways.

When Michael had done what he wanted, he sat back down next to Trevor in a daze. Trevor wiped some blood from his nose. They stayed like that for five minutes before Trevor gathered the courage to speak.

"We _do _need you, Mikey. You're one of us. You-you're why I'm here. Why I am who I am. And without you... I really don't know what I would do with myself."

A pause. He scooted closer to Michael.

"... I really need you. I... I can't do this alone."

Michael stood up and went back to the motel just as the sun had vanished behind the horizon, and the crickets had begun their nighttime sonata once again. Trevor followed closely behind, just as he always had for a year.

This had happened before.

* * *

Niko was on the porch, and glared at Michael with resentful eyes as the man pulled his top from his shirt again as he entered the house. Trevor noticed. Great, he had to defend him again. Time to get under Niko's skin.

"At this stage," Trevor pointed out to him, "Mikey is to me as your cousin was to you-"

"Don't bring up Roman," Niko growled. "Never. Again."

Unfortunately for Niko, Roman had died before this had all happened. Car accident.

Trevor shrugged, then sat on the stairs next to him.

"Michael wasn't always like this, N. You know that. He lost his family, for Gods-sake, cut the guy some slack."

"He is weighing us down. So is that Wade kid. And we could do fine without Lester."

"They're my family. You, of all people, should understand that."

A melancholy look crossed the Siberian's expression. "I should. You're right. But Roman could use a gun if he had to. And this is a very different time, мој сапутник. Can we really afford the anchor?"

Trevor stared at him with bullets dancing in his gaze.

"We're going to have to."

* * *

_Michael doesn't talk to anyone anymore, as far as I know. He just has this... empty look. A look I wish I could fill. I may not have been the one to shoot down Amanda, but I would go back in time if I could and stop Franklin, just to see the outcome. If maybe we could have held on the them and tried to save them._

_But that was the past. This is the present, and nothing more can be done._

_Some Walkers passed by us today. They don't understand that any place that isn't in tatters could house some tasty humans, and that's good. And the outside smells just bad enough to mask our scent. Guess we have Claude to thank for that, not taking away the garbage for a while and all. Mike gets on him for that, but unless he wants to do it himself, that trash isn't going anywhere._

_Santa's begging to be let out. I don't have anything more to say anyways._

_~Wave~_

* * *

She spent most of her nights on the roof of the motel nowadays. She liked to see the stars, especially with all the city lights out. Probably for good too. Trevor, whenever he couldn't find her, would just go up there, and poof, mystery solved. His baby girl was on the roof. He'd lay next to her and show her the constellations. He'd learned about them in Flight school.

But he didn't need to show her anymore. By now, she knew them all.

They did it anyways.

"Trevor."

"Hmm."

"What's that one?" Wave pointed high into the sky.

"Lepus the Hare."

"Oh yeah. And there?"

"Uh... the bull one. Taurus, I think."

"Make a constellation for me."

That caught him off guard. She'd never asked him to do that before.

"A constellation?"

"Yeah."

"For you?"

"Did I misspeak?"

Trevor chuckled. What a little shit.

"Constellations aren't made in a night, baby girl. It has to be recognized globally. But... eh... I think I can make an exception. Just give me a few nights."

Wave scooted over to her father and snuggled against him for warmth. Her forehead grazed his chin.

"You need to shave, Dad."

Trevor faked a groan. "Awe, do I _have _to? I like the itchy, scratchy, dirty mess of shit on my face."

Wave laughed. Trevor swore he heard bells.

"We'll head back to the gas station and look for a razor, okay?" Trevor said.

"Not tonight! We have to _sleep_. Ya know, _sleep_? That thing you do at _night_?"

He playfully shoved her, then held her close.

"Yeah, alright, nighty-night time.

* * *

Light feet pattered down the road, followed by another set and then one more. Then there were the tiny, silky paws and wavy tail, but that one didn't count. It just followed them.

The girl at the lead searched the broken glass on the ground in the light of the moon, seeking any particularly sharp shards. But the tall man didn't take the time. Their shoes were thick. The first step echoed around the empty night.

"SHHHSHH!" the girl warned. "We still don't know if anyone's here!"

"It's the middle of the night. They're probably asleep." The man continued into the gas station. The cat meowed and sat at the edge of the sea of glass, patiently waiting for the man.

"This isn't smart! You know better than this!" the girl hissed. She tip toed around the large pieces and joined the man inside. The third stayed out to keep watch.

Once inside, the man switched on his flashlight and beamed it around. The girl panicked.

"Look, if there's really anyone here, they would have attacked us by now."

"Or they're waiting for us to leave, then shoot!"

The man got down on one knee to face the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Look, I know Lee taught you some good stuff. He taught us all good stuff. And with that knowledge, I have the power to make my own decisions. True, it's better to be overcautious than under cautious, but I think I've got a good balance. Next time, I'll let you lead the way."

"There might not be a next time, Kenny."

The man stood up. He looked around. "See if you can find any food, Clem."

The girl was going to do so, but the third member outside motioned them outside. They pointed to the horizon.

"Smoke. People. Also, we've got a little friend over here."

They lead Kenny and 'Clem' to the side of the building, where there was a growing pile of dead Walkers.

"The ones at the top would have rotted by now if there was no one here. Let's get what we need and go."

"Wait," 'Clem' said. "If these people are so efficient in disposing of the Walkers, they may not be bad people. And they're not afraid if they have a fire going. They might be able to help us."

"You're nuts, Clem," Kenny said.

"It's how I found you again, Kenny."

The man hesitated. Then nodded.

"Alright. We'll sneak around at dawn, see what they're like."

The cat purred into Kenny's leg, and they all jumped.

"Damn cat," someone muttered.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_

_Since I wrote this story after the Walking Dead: Season one and **before **Season two was completed, please forgive any errors in story plot considering Clem's side. I don't know at this time if Kenny kicks the bucket, I know for a FACT they probably don't get a cat, I don't know about Pete/Luke or any of those guys, and the third person will be an OC._

_And you could be it._

_Fire off an OC idea to me through Private messaging, and I'll get back to you. More likely than not, it will be a combination of everyone's ideas, unless someone's OC is almost exactly what I pictured._

_-Dylawa_


	3. Chapter 3

Mike was the first to hear the knocking. He always was. Without a sound, he snatched up his gun and inched towards the door.

"Knock again," he commanded.

The knock came again. So it wasn't just some Walker bumping around, which was good. He pulled open the door carefully and saw a man with a thick beard, graying hair and a warm look in his eyes. He almost looked like Santa.

"Mornin', stranger." The man stretched and held out his hand. Mike jumped, and raised his gun.

"Slower."

"Sorry."

They shook hands. Mike relaxed, and opened the door wider.

"Everyone else's asleep. What can I do for you?"

The man at the door shifted from one foot to the other. "Nothin' much. Me and my gang were just passing by the area and saw signs of human life. Wanted to make sure we were welcome to crash in the area for a little bit."

"Sorry, but that's not up to me. What's you name?" Mike asked.

"Call me Kenny."

"Well, Kenny, stick in the area. The others should be waking soon. I'll come and get you later so you can talk to Trevor if you want."

Kenny smiled kindly. "That would be highly appreciated. Could I get your name?"

"Nope," Mike grumbled. Kenny's smile fell.

"Oh, well, alright then. Yeah, I'll stick around. Won't be too far out of sight. So... yeah."

Mike shut the door, and stomped down the hall in order to wake everyone.

"TREVOR! NIKO! Someone's out there!"

* * *

When Trevor looked at his watch, he saw it was still early. Around six or seven. Wave stirred in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and burried his face in her hair. Smelled alright. They bathed once every three days to save supplies unless totally necessary, like covered in Walker guts.

It felt so right to have her in his arms. The weight of her small frame in his arms, the feel of her breathing countering his. It felt natural. Two of the same person, almost. And now that he was playing father _and _leader, he felt even more strongly about it.

"TREVOR! NIKO! Someone's out there!"

It was enough for him to slip away from her, put on some pants and grab his shotgun.

* * *

"Someone was here."

"I heard," Niko yawned. "And?"

Mike shrugged. "Older fellow, from the looks of him. Came alone, unarmed, wanted to know if it was alright to hang out in the area. Trevor?"

"Where is he now?"

"Around. I told him to scram, but not too far so you could get a taste of 'im."

Trevor cringed. "A _taste _of him? Mike, we're not cannibals here. I'll get Wave. They'll be less likely to attack if they see we've got a kid. Oh, and Mike, get Wade. He wouldn't hurt either."

The man nodded, and walked down the hall. Niko closed the distance between him and Trevor and whispered, "This is dangerous. No one has been here for some time. It's very remote and unlikely to have resources. How do we know they aren't just here for _our _goods?"

Wave and Wade came back, the girl with her pistol in her hand. Trevor smirked at the sight.

"Time to find out, you Commie bastard. Come on, kids, we're going for a little walk.

* * *

Clem ran a finger down the rusted, bent metal of the playground she and the rest of her group had chanced upon. It made her sad to see such an innocent piece of equipment in such disarray. But then again, some of this stuff could break your leg if you weren't careful. And you could get diseases from cutting yourself on rusty metal. But it was all unimportant to her. At least, now it was.

A gentle hand rested on her back, and she glanced back at her friend.

"I bet you miss this stuff, don't you, Clementine?"

She nodded.

Hayley Bane sighed and shook her head, and her tan hair shined in the early sun. "You can never get too old for the park. You could have just asked Ben..." Her green eyes softened at the thought of her boyfriend, who had died about eleven months ago. He had fallen off a building and was impaled by a metal rod. But that didn't kill him. What killed him was the Walkers that followed his scent. Kenny had tried to save him, even though he had a bone to pick with the kid, but there was nothing he could do when there were so many Walkers.

Clem nodded. She remembered Ben. He had the best intentions, but he wasn't always the best man for the job. Hayley sighed and sat on a worn down plastic slide.

"Eh, look at how dingy my pants are," she commented. "I'll have to wash them soon."

Clem grinned. "I think it's about time we all got a new pair of clothes."

"Yeah? Maybe we'll stop by a Target or Walmart if we can."

"My mom used to take me clothes shopping a lot," Clementine said. "But we had really different tastes, so it was hard to find something we both liked."

"I know that feeling, but it came down to me and my roommates back at college and what we should do and where we should go for a night out." Hayley laughed lightly, and readjusted the watch on her wrist. Clem stared.

She shouldn't have been jealous of Hayley getting Lee's golden watch. Her wrist was still too little for it, after all. But Lee had given it to Hayley when she had gone off on her own for a little while, because she wasn't too good at keeping track of time. She had met up with Kenny, then Clementine had arrived, and the rest was history. It was all history.

But it was one of few things of Lee that had survived. Clementine had been closer to him than anyone.

But it was Hayley's watch now. She could do with it as she pleased.

"When do you think it will be safe to go find Kenny?" Hayley asked. Clementine stared at the direction of the motel.

"We should wait a fair bit before we go see if it's safe. We don't know what these people are like, or even what Kenny's telling them. If he's lying to them about us, and we show up, that could end really badly."

"Good call."

Clementine sat down and started picking at the grass, counting the blades, anything to pass the time.

* * *

Kenny glanced up at the sound of footsteps. There were quite a few, and if he had to guess, three or four people were coming.

Niko, Trevor, Wade and Wave rounded a corner and stared at Kenny with cautious eyes. They had been given a physical description by Mike, but they still needed to be careful. In a world like this, anyone could be a liar.

Kenny gave his typical warm grin. Wade relaxed immediately.

"Oh, Trevor, look at how nice he looks, he's got deer eyes an' everythin'."

Trevor didn't acknowledge the comment, though it was true. Kenny had _very _friendly eyes.

"What's your name?" Trevor asked.

"I'm Kenny," he said. "I was just passing through with my group and we saw there was someone around. Wanted to make sure we weren't disrupting the peace."

Trevor barked out a loud laugh. "Peace, oh peace. Sorry, uh, 'Kenny', but I'm afraid you aren't going to find any of that around here. The closest to peace we have are, uh, acquaintances. We ain't really friends. We're just similar."

Kenny nodded. "I can relate to that. There used to be more of us, but they got picked off."

"Yeah? Well, sorry to hear that."

"It's in the past, but the water ain't quite under the bridge yet."

Kenny's eyes darkened at the thought of those he'd lost. Trevor turned to Wave and whispered, "Look around for the others. Tell me how many there are."

She nodded, and disappeared into the bushes.

"Oh, uh, hey! Where are my manners? The name's Trevor, pardner," he chuckled. He held out his hand for Kenny to shake, and he did. Kenny noticed his right knuckles said "fuck". Interesting.

* * *

Wave had had a year of practice of crawling and creeping through the outdoor world, and minimizing her noise. Every twig could be the difference between life or death.

She found a good tree with strong branches, and began to climb. The bark was wet, too, so it made little sound as she hoisted herself up. When she reached the top, she pulled out a spyglass she had found about four months ago and searched the area.

No one at the gas station.

No one down the road.

No one at the river.

No one at the- wait...

Those were undoubtedly crossed legs hiding behind that slide. And that was... a head of tan hair!

Wave gasped to herself, and climbed down quickly. When she reached the clearing- just before she would be able to be heard or seen by the people in the park- she stopped, and listened hard.

"-what do you think?"

"Honestly... cannibals... kidnap... "

She couldn't hear them very well.

"... past experience with people like... should be easy..."

"But... too many..."

"Take them down. No problem."

Wave gasped. They were going to kill them!? She wasn't going to let it happen. She grabbed her pistol from her pocket and aimed it towards the people in the park.

"Not today, sweetheart," she whispered.

* * *

"Really, Hayley," Clem said. "I think they might not be safe. We should get Kenny and go. What do you think?"

Hayley brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Honestly, we've already been through so much and grown up so... well, we met cannibals, we've been all over the country, you got kidnapped- with past experience with people like that, it should be easy to look out for our own if something happens."

Clementine knew Hayley had a point, but she had learned to be overly cautious after learning what people could really be like. "But there are too many people like that in the world. What if these people are no different?"

"Take them down. No problem."

"What?!" Clem gasped. "Hayley, it's not that easy!"

"It's people like that which is why Ben is dead!" Hayley exclaimed.

The ground next to Clementine's foot suddenly burst up, and the two girls screamed. They looked in the direction of the gunfire and saw a young teenage girl holding a pistol. Still aiming at them.

"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID!" Wave yelled. "You aren't going to get us!"

"No, no!" Hayley exclaimed. "I-it was a misunderstanding!"

Clementine knew there was no time to spare. She pulled her own gun from her pack and fired back. Wave leapt out of the way. Trevor, Kenny and the others came out of the trees.

"What the FUCK are you doing!?" Kenny yelled.

"Trevor!" Wave screamed. "They're gonna double cross us!"

Trevor believed her, because she believed it. He kicked Kenny in his back, and the man fell to the ground.

"KENNY!" Clem cried. She ran to help her friend, but Niko shot in her direction, and she stumbled. Hayley took up the task with her trusty ice pick, throwing it in Niko's direction. It pierced his shoulder, and he yelled in agony.

Trevor raised his shotgun to shoot in Kenny's head, but the man swept Trevor's legs out from under him. He ran in Wave's direction, away from Trevor, but doing that was like getting between a mother bear and her cub. Trevor shot his gun, and it grazed Kenny's side. He yelled, and fell.

Hayley had retrieved her ice pick from Niko's shoulder blade and kicked his gun away, and now she was aiming for Trevor. Wave called her out, and Trevor grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something, sweety?" he growled.

"DAD!"

Trevor whirled around to find Kenny holding his gun up to Wave's neck, holding her tightly.

"Y'all need to calm down right now!" Kenny screamed. Trevor trembled, and put Hayley in the same hold.

"Let my daughter go," he shrieked. Kenny's demeanor faltered for a moment, but he retained it quickly.

"Let ME go!" Wave screamed. "DAD!"

"BITE ME!" Trevor yelled at his daughter. But he didn't mean it, especially since she was stuck in Kenny's hold. It was a code word, a tactic that never failed for the girl. She yanked her head away from the gun so it wouldn't shoot her and bit Kenny in his shoulder. He screamed, and though he didn't let go, his hold on her loosened enough for her to get away. She grabbed Kenny and held _her _gun to the side of his head.

Clementine cried, "DON'T!" and held her gun close to her. She looked to Kenny, then back to Hayley. Trevor sneered at her.

"Ooh, little Asian girl has a choice to make, huh? You wouldn't kill my _daughter_ now, would you?"

Wave stared at Clem too. "Don't even think about it, kid! Do NOT shoot Trevor!"

"Shoot her!" Hayley cried. "Save Kenny!"

"Clem, get Hayley and get out of here!" Kenny yelled.

Clementine had a choice to make. No matter what she did, she was going to lose someone. But she realized that they were both in front of the river after a second. She wouldn't shoot them. No one had to die. She could push someone and their captive into the river, and fight them down the way. Then, with the freed captive, she could make her way back up the river and stage a rescue mission. Chances were, these guys would hold a ransom for their member to be returned. The ransom would be the remaining captive.

Clementine had a choice to make, but no one had to die.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_

_Readers, this is a choice not just Clementine is making, but one YOU are making as well. Who should Clementine save? Reliable and long time friend Kenny trapped in Wave's strong grip, or the athletic and understanding Hayley Bane struggling in Trevor's grasp?_

_Leave a comment on the story telling who you want to save and why, and include reasons for the captor too._

_-Dylawa_

**_EDIT:_ **Hayley Bane belongs to the wonderful GoldenLombaxGirl, who offered her OC in the previous chapter. Thanks again, Golden! :D

**EDIT 2:** Come on guys, I know you're there, we got 16 views just today (May 25, 2014). Make a choice. Should Clem save Kenny and get stuck with Wave, or spare Hayley and deal with Trevor? I need some support here! :-(


	4. Chapter 4

_You guys voted, and I follow thy command as thy wisheth of me._

_But still, the writer's block is strong with this one. The "one" being me._

* * *

There was no time left to think. There was no time to take into careful consideration the choice Clementine was about to make. She simply closed her eyes tight, prayed she wouldn't be shot, and charged at Kenny and Waverly. The older girl pointed her gun at the smaller girl, but it was too late. Clem crashed into them with full force, barely missing a bullet from Trevor's gun, and the three plunged into the rapid river behind them.

"WAVERLY!" Trevor screamed. He threw Hayley to the ground and bolted to find his daughter. He peered into the water with keen eyes, but no bodies could be seen. He edged down as far as he dared and glared down the current with frantic eyes. But already, if she was above the surface, she was far out of sight.

His lip trembled violently as the different outcomes flashed across his mind.

Hayley tried to run, but Niko pinned her down, despite his still wounded shoulder.

"Trevor!" he called. "The river doesn't go far, maybe fifteen miles. We'll go find them later! I need your help here!"

The psychopath didn't budge, only staring with swelling, wettened eyes.

"Wavey baby..?" he whispered.

The water moved on quickly, almost silently, uncaring to his dilemma or pleas.

* * *

"**_KENNY!_**" Clementine hollered over the sound of the roaring water. "Kenny! Where are you?!"

She tried to keep her head above the water as best as she could, but the waves were high and frequent. They splashed into her face and eyes, making it difficult to see.

"Clem! **Clem!**"

He was behind her, still up the river a ways. He stared to swim towards her, but Wave leapt seemingly from nowhere out of the white rapids and pushed him under the water.

Clementine screamed, "No! Stop!" and began to paddle back in their direction.

Kenny jerked back above the surface, his head hitting Waverly in the jaw and stunning her long enough for him to get a good enough distance away from her. He swam to Clementine and held on to her.

"Swim for shore!" he told her. "We need to get away from this crazy fucker!"

Easier said than done. The water was cold, and it was already beginning to shut her body down. Nevertheless, she paddled as well as she could with Kenny helping her along.

Wave wasn't letting them get away that easily. If her gun wasn't waterlogged, she'd have shot them by now, but it was useless in this water anyways. She took a deep breath, dived, and crept towards them with the bubbling surface disguising her approach.

A foot grazed her head, and she grabbed it. Whoever she had underwater with her wasn't very strong. It must have been the little girl. She pulled her down further and wrapped her hands around her thin neck. The muffled, panicked cries were pleasing to Wave's ears. The more masculine cry and punch to the face, however, was not, and she let go of the girl and retreated just out of arm's length.

They all resurfaced, gasping and weak. They needed to get out of the river, or they would drown.

Kenny pushed Clem and said, "Get out of here! I'll hold her off!"

There was no time to argue, and the small girl obeyed with little hesitation. Kenny gazed after her, then whirled around just in time to avoid a punch to the face by the teen who had held him captive.

When Clementine reached the shore, she yanked a branch from a nearby tree and ran to Kenny. She threw him the stick without a word, he caught it, and smacked Wave in the face with it, then held her close and dug it into her side. She gasped, a bit of blood trickling from her mouth from the blow to it earlier, and kicked him back. Pulling the branch back out of her, she snarled and dove back under the water. Kenny didn't dare to follow her.

And she didn't come back up, even when he grabbed the ledge of the shore and stopped moving. He panted heavily, and Clementine offered him her hand. She pulled him out, and they lay panting and shivering together.

"Are you okay?" Clementine asked as soon as she had her breath back. Kenny just nodded, then scrambled to his feet.

"We can't stay here," he reminded her. "They have Hayley, and I'll be damned before I just leave her with those psychos."

Clem nodded. "But as much as I agree, there are so much more of them than us. We're only two now, Kenny."

The thought lingered far longer than they would have liked. As good as it is to travel in small groups during this time, it's not always good to be _too _small.

And right now, Clementine couldn't have felt more small.

* * *

Down at the lake where the river ended, Wave took the scrap of cloth she'd torn off of that guy's shirt and then some from her own clothes to create a makeshift tourniquet to cover her wound. It wasn't deep, and probably wouldn't get infected, but it hurt like hell.

She grabbed a thick stick from the ground, took a stone with a sharp edge, then began to craft a spear with it as she walked back up the shoreline.

"Fuckers." she whispered to herself. She didn't bother to quiet her footsteps along the way. There were no Walkers in the area, and no other signs of life either. She was certain that she was safe. Only when the sky began to darken with thick rain clouds did she begin to worry a little. The woods around here were dryer than usual, so if lightning struck, she'd be in grave danger.

Wave quickened her pace to match her increasing heart rate, and heard their voices. _How had she already caught up!?_

She scurried into the trees and perched on a branch, listening to them.

"... It was really just a misunderstanding," the girl said. "She heard us and thought we were planning a surprise attack."

"I thought she'd just gone back for supplies or something. I didn't think anything of it when she went off. Kinda reminded me of Sarah at first, the way she clung to that guy like he was her dad. But I know she's not. There is absolutely NO way. She shares NONE of his features."

"Maybe he picked her up and looks after her."

"Maybe. To be honest, I actually felt a little bad for her at first. The only girl with all those men. I sure hope that guy looked out for her good."

Wave relaxed a bit at their words. They had been concerned for her. And she had misunderstood them. But there was no way she was going down there right now. There was no need to, and she really didn't need another fight.

There was a sound in the brush, and all three tensed. Walkers? Cougars?

No, Indians. They were covered in Walker guts. Some had smeared themselves in a way as though it was just body paint and not the entrails of a monster. Wave saw them first from her perch in the trees. There were five of them, and they were closing in on Kenny and Clem.

_God, I need a vacation, _Wave told herself. _I'm hallucinating. It's obvious. This isn't real._

But then they were shouting, visible to Kenny and Clem too, holding their spears and threatening them. Kenny just laughed at the sight until tears rolled down into his beard.

"What the fuck? INDIANS!? Clem, will ya get a load of this?"

"Kenny! Be serious! They wanna kill us!"

"If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it by now. They want something."

It was true. One, who actually had a gun, emerged from the rest and pointed at Kenny.

"Your weapons. Now, or we kill."

He complied immediately. "They're all we got, and they're ruined anyway from the river washing them out. Here. Their not gonna work anymore."

Clem gave her gun too. "Is that all?" she asked hopefully.

"Who is your friend in the tree over there?" the man asked. He was pointing at Wave.

_What the fuck_, Wave thought. Kenny and Clem saw her for the first time, and frowned.

"That bitch is _not _our friend," Kenny remarked with acid in his tone. Wave folded her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Look, I heard you guys talking, and now I know it was a misunderstanding."

"It's too late for 'understanding'," Clementine replied. "Your party has our friend."

"And now these Indians have you," Wave spat back. "I'm still free up here, and I intend to-"

A gunshot rattled and split the wood next to Wave's head, and she jumped, lost her balance, and tumbled from the tree. Two of the Indians surrounded her and grabbed her arms and took her gun.

"Let me GO!" she hissed.

The one with the gun pointed at Kenny and Clem. "Come. We help you with friend now."

Kenny laughed again. "I-is this a joke? Tell me this is a joke, you guys cannot be for real. We're in freaking New Mexico!"

The gun shoved his back.

"NOW. We fix your friend."

"She ain't our friend," Kenny reminded him.

"Please," Clem begged. "He's right. Our real friend has been captured up the river, we need to go save her!"

"You don't understand," another man said. "Everyone is a friend in this dark time. You all just need some convincing. And don't worry, we will _convince _you. This girl is good at heart. She needs you just as much as you need her right now."

* * *

Santa sniffed the scrap of fabric from Wave's wardrobe again, and so did Chop. Instead of going to search again, they only stared at Franklin, and whimpered. _She isn't here, _they tried to tell him. _She's gone, and her scent is gone_.

He sighed, worried of how Trevor would react. "T, they can't find her, or the others. The scent's not strong enough."

At the edge of the lake, Trevor clutched his daughter's Impotent Rage figurine more tightly, and kicked the sand bitterly.

"Start heading back up. Maybe they didn't came down this far."

Franklin obeyed immediately. Claude crept up behind him surreptitiously and tapped him on the shoulder. "Look, I saw some signs of a struggle a little ways back up. There's blood on this stick."

Trevor took the 'weapon' from him and stared closely. "This is Wave's. Her blood is a little lighter than most people."

"And how would you know that?"

"I just do." T wasn't about to tell Claude of all people about Wave being a government experiment. "Where did you find this? Give it to the dogs and let them lead us."

Claude did so, and the party started back up stream. It was times like these that Trevor wished that Michael would come back to his senses and be his friend again rather than his _son_. He needed someone to talk and vent to more than ever now, and he had no one.

But he wasn't scared. Not in the slightest. Wave could take care of herself, and if Claude said nothing about the amount of blood being significant, she most likely wasn't dead. Oh, no. Trevor wasn't scared.

It was his heart that was panicking.

* * *

_GGUGUUEUEUUU, WRITER'S BLOCK. I need more Eddie Gluskin. Wait, what?_

_SHIT, THAT MOTHERFUCKER GGAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH_

_-Dylsawaw_


End file.
